Elisa Nyassom is a beautifully talented friend of mine who I just love to show off!
She has decided to be oh so brave and share a bit of her heart. Keep reading!
My writing is my very most sensitive part of my art...
It is in essence my mind, and my mind is all I have at the end of the day.
When I write down word for word what I think...
I feel like a loose bird in the open sky who is about to be shot at for simply doing what I love to do...Fly.
Expert: (Five Universes)
They woke up to the moon's rising. The moon had grace; When she rose, she did so with an aroma like incense and chamomile. Her complexion was like that of lavender and her eyes, beautiful buttons of cotton stuffed myrrh. The moon was a thing of ancient love to most story tellers. Wanderlust's, Nomads, and Gypsies would stay up all night through the desert's harsh breathe just to watch the lavender moon rise in the morning. The kids were lucky. I watched them from a distance witness light in its most gracious form; filling all possible open spaces, not too harsh, but gently, the moon rose and they sat there on the lion's back and smelled the lavender air of the morning, almost in well needed ecstasy. The desert in itself was likened to a creative lunatic, damsel. She was brutal when she was dark, yet oh so very pure when she was light; and just as a wise friend would learn to do, you too would have to accept the desert as she came...all her good, with all her treachery, and love her for her mere existence.
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